This creepy experience must have happened about a year ago now, around Halloween, and to this day, it still creeps me the f**k out. Me and my twin sister, Lauren, both 20 now, had moved into our first flat three months before this happened. Our parents helped us move into the flat, my Dad hiring a van to get all of our stuff and the whole family including my elder brother, Sam who was visiting from England helped us move furniture and numerous boxes into the flat. Our family helped us settle in, and luckily enough, our flat was actually next door to one of our Dad’s old friends, Danny which was great as we hadn’t seen him and his wife in about 10 years. The neighborhood we live in, which is a smallish village about an hour or so from Glasgow in Scotland, is 99 percent of the time really quiet and everybody around the area is really nice, but this one night, something wasn’t quite right. Like I’ve said already, we had only really got used to the area we were living in, but after what happened this one night, I always have my wits about me.
It was a dark winter night in late October/ early November, a Thursday I think, and me and my sister decided to stay up until about half one in the morning, as we sometimes did after a long week at college. We’d stay up drinking, stuffing our faces and talking about random stuff like acting – the subject we were both studying, motorbikes, guys, and some bitching too, just like any normal young woman would do. We then decided to put the lights out and go to bed as we had grown tired. I’d do the normal nightly routine like check everything was turned off and the door was locked, which it was thankfully, as a few nights previously I had forgotten to lock it, so we both went to bed and fell asleep as usual.
Just to set the layout of the flat, me and my sister were on the first floor above an old woman, Betty, who is rather lovely, but we don’t see her very often. Our bedroom is right next to the porch and the front door, and our bedroom window looks out onto the street.
It was about 4am when we awoke to a loud knocking at our door. I was expecting a parcel the next day, so initially thought it would be the postman, but that’s when I checked the time on my phone which I usually leave on in case of emergencies, and it was 4:30am. Still being tired and disorientated, I realized that it was far too dark to be about 10am when the postman usually came, even though the mornings were much darker now during the winter months. The banging on the door lasted about what felt like 20 minutes but was probably less. I and my sister were too scared to move from our beds, only whispering quietly to each other to just ignore the banging on the door. Neither of us was very comfortable about answering the door to a stranger knocking at an ungodly hour. I don’t usually answer the door to strangers, or even answer mobile numbers I don’t recognize. The banging stopped suddenly, and I heard heavy footsteps descend down the outside stairs next to the wall near my head.
Everything fell silent for a few minutes, so I tried to settle back down, but my adrenaline was going crazy. I could feel my legs shaking, I was so nervy about whoever was outside. There was no way I was getting back to sleep.
Then I saw the flashing of a torch through our bedroom window. It flashed at least three times but maybe more. It then stopped. I then heard what sounded like the man talking on the phone to someone or having a conversation with someone outside, sounding a bit agitated and angry. I didn’t look outside of our bedroom window in case the man saw me, but a few minutes later, I heard the rumbling of a car engine below me, so I then assumed he that came in his car. His voice became increasingly explosive as I became more and more scared. It got to the point where I was about to phone the police, but then I heard the man opening his car door and leaving swiftly along the street. I don’t know who the man was or what he wanted, but I didn’t sleep at all that night, and for the next few days after that, every single noise would give me a fright. I was scared that whoever it was was going to come back.
The story doesn’t end there.
In the end, I thought that it was someone with the wrong address, or maybe just a drunk guy, but about a week later, we got a knock at the door at about half six in the evening, which was unusual for such a quiet area and neither I or my sister were expecting any mail packages or shopping to be delivered, so I decided to open the door to whoever had knocked. Initially, I thought it was our neighbor as he had been round once before to see how we were settling in, but not this time. It was a woman who was dressed in a suit and looked very professional, her hair up in a tight bun and holding a clipboard. I was a bit anxious and wondered who the hell she was. I looked down at her name badge, but I can’t remember her name now. Let’s call her Molly. Molly said she worked for the criminal courts and was looking for a guy, let’s call him Thomas, who had previously been a tenant at this flat before we moved in a few months before.
Molly mentioned something to do with money, but the visit was so vague I don’t really remember what she said. She asked if the man lived here, and I said no, just me and my sister. She asked when we moved in and what letting agency we were with, but I think that was just to confirm that we did live there. She seemed nice enough, got what she wanted, and left, so I’m guessing money is the reason why the creepy guy turned up a few nights previously banging loudly on our door. I am so glad I didn’t answer the door that night and that I made sure it was locked. Fuck knows what would have happened if he thought that we were the man he and the courts were looking for. I am happy to say, since then, we have had no further disturbances at our flat, but it still gives me the chills just thinking about it. I just hope this creep never comes back…